Anger Management
by Overuse of Commas
Summary: Bruce has always been angry, that's his motto. Story is much more interesting than the summary. Hopefully a 20 chapter story.
1. Introduction to Chaos

_He could hear the crunch of her bones inside his hand. He could hear himself shouting for the monster to stop until his throat was raw and his voice hoarse, but the creature never stopped. He had to watch through the creature's eyes as he crushed the life out of the only person who could ever understand him, the first person that Bruce had ever trusted with his condition, the only person he could share his emotions with. He had to watch as her blood made its way through the cracks of giant fingers, looking black against the green skin. He tried to coax the hand open but it only grew tighter as the seconds went on, the crunch of bones getting louder until it rang in his ear._

Bruce jerked up, awoken by the sudden and very loud clatter of tools. _Shit,_ he hissed under his breath, clutching a handful of shirt over where his heart was located. He couldn't help but think of the dream he was in seconds ago; it was just so vivid to him. Bruce took a couple deep breaths before releasing his shirt. His eyes scanned the room for the source of the crash while his hands fidgeted with the sweat drenched covers. When he finally got himself free from the cotton prison he rubbed his legs over twice with his thumbs as an attempt to calm down. Bruce took twenty minutes to do his morning routine, something that takes two minutes on a good day. He had a tough time steadying his hands in order to put his belt on but eventually he got it. With a quick look-over in the mirror and a slap in the face, Bruce made his way into the common room of the ever lively Avengers Tower.

The second Bruce stuck his head out of doorway the Iron Man suit flew past, looping around couches and tables. Bruce quickly made his way into the sidelines of the commotion giving Thor a nod of acknowledgement, which was reciprocated. The two watched in half-amusement, half-annoyance as the suit missed the wall by a hair and shot up to the ceiling, colliding with the chandelier. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as the chandelier and the suit hit the ground (which earned a hearty laugh from Thor), shattering the glass and knocking off the helmet, revealing a messy haired teenager underneath it.

"Peter," Bruce said with a parental tone, "Did Tony let you use his suit?" The teenager swallowed and puffed his cheeks out a bit, something Bruce had noticed Peter did before he told a lie, and turned himself around so that he was lying on his side.

"Uh... yeah." Peter smiled awkwardly and reached his arm out to grab the helmet.

"Alright," Bruce said, waving it off. He really didn't believe that Tony would let that kid use his suit, but he wanted no part of it when Tony found out. With the memory of that morning in the back of his head Bruce made his way to the elevator with the intention of finding a quiet place to read, or maybe just to sit in silence, he hadn't decided yet. Bruce considered both ideas as he waited for the elevator doors to open. He decided to go to the kitchen and make some coffee or tea. Bruce walked in the larger-than-normal elevator room and punched the floor number for the kitchen. The doors began sliding closed and a second before they closed completely he heard an unmanly shriek of surprise that he could only assume was Tony discovering the mess Peter had made.

By the time Bruce reached the kitchen floor he had decided that he wanted to get something at that little café Steve goes to and just sit in the sun. Besides, the kitchen was too crowded. Natasha and Clint were having a serious, no word conversation and he didn't want to intrude. So Bruce stayed in the elevator for thirty more floors until he hit the bottom.

"Set my location as New York Coffee." The Avengers, especially Bruce, were adamant about telling JARVIS, Tony's AI, where they were going if they left the tower just in case they were needed and no one knew where they were at.

Bruce chose a cute little table in the outside seating that was hit by sun and overlooked the Avenger's Tower, which looked like a strange type of beautiful in the golden rays. The café was almost empty; there was only he, two men sharing a basket of fries and chatting about whatever sport was in season, and a young woman about four years younger than himself who was quietly working on the crossword puzzle in that week's newspaper. Bruce blocked out the sports chatter and closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he breathed in the smell of freshly baked croissants. After a good three minutes of complete tranquility, Bruce noticed the quiet mumble that was the sports talk had ceased. He popped open one eye to check it out, and what he was greeted with was the barrel of a gun, held by one of the men who were having the sports conversation, less than an inch away from his forehead and the young woman holding the man's arm aggressively.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," the woman had an unusually threatening tone even though her voice was higher than most womens'.

"I'd leave babe, it's going to get a bit messy," he rammed his shoulder into her chest, causing her to stumble backwards into a table. The man turned his attention back to Bruce, who was paralyzed in fear of unleashing the beast. With a smirk he cocked the gun, prepared to pull the trigger, but the sound was all she needed. The clicking of the gun seemed to remind her of the urgency of the situation because within a second of the sound she had pushed the table into his knees, rolled over to Bruce and encased the two in a bubble of pure energy.

Bruce stumbled over his words, "I- what is goin-"He took a deep breath which turned into coughing fits. Bruce held onto his chest and began breathing fast and ragged breaths. The two men began firing at free will at the little bubble. The bullets made faint noises as they hit the force field and fell to the ground. With each dull sound Bruce's anger grew, until he felt the rage take over and his body begin to swell. The woman looked down to see what was going on with Bruce when she noticed the green tint of his skin.

"Oh my god please not right now." She held her arms higher up above her, her muscles flexed and her arms shaking, giving more power to her shield. She tried the best she could to calm him down, "Bruce, hey, hang in there." With each hit on her bubble there was a little grunt of frustration, which did not help her in trying to console the man who was seconds away from becoming a rage monster in a confined space. Bruce lost more control as the seconds ticked on, his arms swelling and his shoes beginning to tear. To keep his balance he grabbed the woman's thigh, intending to hold on for dear life with his swelling hand, but as soon as his hand made contact with her thigh, the swelling receded. Bruce felt a rush of energy tingle through every single vein in his body, go through his feet, and up to his head, and suddenly all the anger, frustration, fear -all of it- was gone just like that. Bruce fell back on his knees and looked up at the woman who just gave him a miracle. She was so focused on her shield, having to wait until they ran out of ammo, _and damn did they have a lot_, before she could safely move herself and Bruce somewhere else.

When the firing ceased she popped the shield instantly, and stood up from behind the half-shield of a table. She was quick and ready to act, but they were a mere second ahead of her, and one of them had saved the last bullet for her. She received a shot to the shoulder, to which she responded with plan much different than the one she had a second before. Anger boiled from her toes to the tip of her head and she quickly snapped their necks with a simple snap, added for dramatic effect. Bruce looked up at her with disbelief.

"What, why didn't you do that before?"

The pain from her shoulder was blinding, her vision was literally blurred, and there was a ringing in her ears. She swayed around trying to get a sense of stability, but eventually fell over. Luckily, Bruce caught her and the last thing she saw was Bruce's concerned face before everything went black.

**A/N:** OHMYGOD. That took me five hours to focus and write. It's sad because it's only 1.5k words but whatever, accept my hard work. I know I'm not the best writer but I'm so tired of Bruce being portrayed as the Hulk instead of as his own person outside of the movie, so I had to create a character who could get rid of the Hulk but not make it completely non-existent, u feel me? Alright well, I have this entire story planned out chapter by chapter so I will finish it but the amount of time it takes me to update will rely on reviews so if you want another chapter REVIEW! Thank you!


	2. Interrogation

_He forced the monster to open his hand, forced his eyes to see the terrible mess that he once called his love. The blood itself was enough to evoke nightmares for a month; it was running rivers in every direction, filling the crevices of the large hand. He scanned over the scene until locking on to a something that looked like a large mangled steak, but as soon as he saw the shreds of that familiar purple fabric Bruce felt hot pressure build up under his eyes before tears spilled over. _

Bruce snapped awake, the dream fresh in his mind, and was immediately greeted by the blinding effect of light in an all white room. He blinked and rubbed his eyes while they adjusted to the bright environment. He had been sitting in a chair, and from the pain in his back, it was for a while. Must've dosed off. Bruce stood up with both hands resting on his back and stretched, earning him a couple pops from his spine. He looked down to his left and saw the peaceful resting face of the woman who had saved him just about thirteen hours ago. She had taken a bullet to the shoulder before she killed the men who tried to kill them. She had defended them against a whole arsenal of bullets and snapped the necks of them men who threatened their lives, all with just her mind. She had mentally pushed the other guy back into Bruce's mind, a feat he thought never possible. She was incredible, powerful and quick, like nothing Bruce had ever seen before. That made her very dangerous.

Bruce was given one job when he arrived back at Avengers tower, her unconscious body draped over his shoulder with one patch of ripped cloth that Bruce had fashioned into a sort of bandage. Natasha had offered to take her up to the infirmary while Bruce and Tony sat in silence for a while until Tony finally spoke up.

"Figure out what she wants," Tony told him, "if she wants to help us, well then she can stay, but if she wants us dead… well…" Tony gestured with his hands as if to tell Bruce to finish.

"We'll kill her," he replied coldly.

"Stop the volcano before it erupts." Natasha had joined the conversation, just now walking into view from the direction of the elevator doors. "She was very responsive to the meds, and we got her all hooked up. Unfortunately, she hasn't woken up yet." Bruce nodded softly and pressed his lips together.

"Thanks Nat," he said tightly. She nodded and bowed her head, excusing herself from the conversation.

"Why do I feel like you are already trying to defend this girl?" Tony inquired, grabbing a glass full of amber liquid and raising it to his lips. "I mean, you barely know her." He took a couple gulps.

"She saved my life Tony."

"No Bruce, you could've handled that situation."

"No, Tony. _He _could've handled that situation." Bruce spat that sentence at Tony with as much venom as he could. Tony physically flinched at the way Bruce referred to the Hulk.

"Bruce, you know what I meant."

"I know exactly what you meant." Bruce turned away from Tony and started towards the elevator. Tony called after him, but he was too steamed to care.

That's how he ended up here, in the Avengers Tower infirmary, with his nameless savior all hooked up and unconscious on the bed, a kink in his back, and the burning question in his mind. He checked his watch, 2:15am it read. He checked the clock to compare times; it also said 2:15am. Bruce sighed and sat back in the chair. He folded his arms on the edge of the bed so that her arm was barely touching his arms, and he rested his head in his arms. They stayed in silence for almost an hour before Bruce felt a twitch. He raised his head with concerned and searching eyes. That's when her eyes flew open and her arm shot to Bruce's throat with supernatural speed.

Bruce tried to pry her hand off his throat with both his hands as he frantically gasped for breath. The woman on the other hand took her time sitting up, grimacing with every movement of her recently stitched up shoulder. After what seemed like eternity, her eyes met Bruce's with a fierce hostility but changed almost instantly to soft and apologetic.

"Oh my god!" She released her grasp from Bruce's throat, "I am so sorry, oh my god." Bruce rubbed his neck and warily watched her adjust herself on the bed. "I thought you were a- one of those- those guys at the- the café. I woke up when you were still asleep but I- I just thought you were- anyway. Can I do anything?" She looked at her shoulder and gave herself a small smile, "To help, I mean."

"A name would be great."

"Oh right, oh hum, my name is Parker." She spoke so innocently and had a face that said she was unsure of herself that Bruce doubted for a split second that she could do any harm, but the pulsing pain in his throat set him straight.

"Well, Parker, I need to know what you were doing at that café."

"Oh that." Parker lowered her back onto the bed so she would be lying down again. She didn't try to hide her pain this time around. "I was just lucky being there when I was, you would've… and well you would've…" Parker raised her eyebrows to accommodate for the missing words.

"So you knew who I was."

"I had minimal knowledge."

"Minimal?"

"I knew your name and your face."

"You're lying to me."

Parker had a genuine expression of confusion, "About what?"

"You knew about…"

"I didn't know that I knew about…" Parker's eyebrows and Bruce's tight lips both provided for them a substitute for the word no one dared to utter. "…until you almost killed me doing it."

"What do you mean you didn't know you knew?"

"I mean like, I knew about (eyebrows) but I never knew it was you. I was never told the name of the gamma radiation guy- well, I guess, you- but I knew that there was some guy in New York who had the chance of… that." Bruce felt another moment of doubt in the abilities of this bumbling girl before him. "Doctor Banner, you have to understand, I'm not here to hurt you, but I wouldn't let myself doubt the ability of my power." Her voice turned cold, "I don't like being underestimated."

"Bruce felt the goose bumps appear with a wave of shivers down his back.

"You're not helping your case with talk like that." Bruce attempted to maintain an intimidating tone, she only shrugged. "Did you read my mind?"

"I read your face."

"Can you read minds?"

"I can read emotions"

"We will address that later." Bruce swallowed as an attempt to remove the lump in his throat, "I don't believe you were at that café for no reason."

"You don't." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and it made Bruce uneasy.

"No, I don't." He raised an eyebrow, "Care to tell me why you were there?"

"I guess." Parker took a deep breath and then rolled her eyes to look at Bruce without moving her head. "It sounds crazy, but I had a dream the night before. You were there, and those guys were there, and that café was there. They shot you, but (eyebrows) never came out. It was probably because I didn't know about it, but the dream seemed to never end after that. I was stuck looking at the aftermath for… I don't know. It was so long." Her face went from mocking to solemn while she was telling the story. Bruce looked at her with sad, but understanding eyes. "It was like I was supposed to be there, supposed to do something." Bruce had a flashback to that morning's dream.

"So, uh. How did you do that emotions thing?"

**A/N:** Ever since I planned this story out, I've been dreading writing this chapter. I know, I've been dreading the second chapter, it sounds bad, but I just hate all dialog chapters. But this chapter is crucial so you have to suffer through it, just like I did writing it. So enjoy! The next chapter will be more interesting, I promise. Reviews are my favourite thing. I love when I get an email saying that someone reviewed this, so thank you so much.


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